


Steeb, I'm Sick

by yoursourwolfisshowing



Category: Captain America, Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-15
Updated: 2012-11-15
Packaged: 2017-11-18 17:39:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/563675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoursourwolfisshowing/pseuds/yoursourwolfisshowing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony never learned how to take care of himself while he was sick. That's why Steve is there right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steeb, I'm Sick

Tony awoke to the shrill ringing of his alarm. “JARVIS, it’s not funny past the third time you wake me up at 5:30 a.m.”

“Sir, you’ve been asleep all day, it’s 3 p.m. I’ve checked your vitals and it seems you’re running a fever.”

Groaning, Tony put his hand against his head. Well damn. Taking a check on the rest of himself he felt his stomach lurch. Rolling out of the bed and rushing to the bathroom he all but faceplanted into the toilet and began to vomit. “Oh god, JARVIS, I think I’m going to die.”

“You have a stomach virus, sir. I am well aware that plenty of people go through this every day.”

“But JARVIS, I’m Tony Stark. I don’t… I don’t get sick. Oh god, is this what’s it’s like to be sick? Because I feel like I’m dying.” Tony spit into the toilet and flushed it, laying back on the cool tile floor. “Ugh, this feels like heaven.”

“Sir, you need food and medicine in your system.”

“Sir, you need to shut the hell up. I’m sick, I’m dying.” Not hearing a reply, Tony continued to lay on the floor relishing in how cold it was. Steve would probably take care of him… yeah, Steve would help Tony if he were dying and this counted as dying… right? He could say he was in a fight or something.

Over the months following the Loki incident Tony and Steve had developed a friendship. They still had their spats from time to time, but otherwise, they were total bros. Not more than Brucie and him, of course. Steve actually could handle drunk Tony, sarcastic Tony, one week without sleep Tony, and surprisingly, he was there for him during his breakup. Steve was kind of his rock. He made him eat, drink (water and nasty soda, only), and sleep until he felt like he could make it on his own. No wonder he was team leader…

In that moment Tony shook his head. No. It couldn’t be. Him and Steve…. Why would he think of Steve first to take care of him? Why did he get giddy at the thought of home-cooked chicken noodle soup from him? “JARVIS… I’m sorry for being a dick, can you call Steve?” Sneezing, Tony banged his back against the floor. “Tell him to find me in my bathroom. Tell him I got in a huge fight and I’m dying. It’s urgent.”

“I will tell him you are sick and stuck in the bathroom, sir.”

“Tell him I’m dying.”

“That would be lying, Mr. Stark.”

“I know.”

A few minutes later, Steve had come running to “rescue” Tony as JARVIS had put it. Apparently Tony was dying and in extreme agony. Luckily he lived in the tower and lived in the floor below Tony’s room. Walking into Tony’s bathroom he gasped upon seeing Tony sprawled on the floor. “Tony! Tony, what happened?! JARVIS told me you were dying and you were hurting, and oh geez, nothing happened to your arc reactor did it?”

Tony let out a wheezing laugh and said, “Thanks JARVIS. You’re a great pal. No Steve, my heart is fine, I’m not in pain unless you count my throat burning, but I am dying.”

“What did you do?”

Tony paused and looked up at Steve’s face waiting for his reaction. “I’m sick.”

“…really Tony, you called to tell me that you’re dying because you’re sick?” Steve got up and began to leave the room. “Look, it’s just a stomach virus probably, you’re a big boy, you can take care of yourself.”

Tony grabbed onto Steve’s leg and refused to let him go. “But Steeeeb, I don’t get sick. I never get sick. Is this how regular people feel? I feel disgusting.”

“Tony, I’d hate to break it to you, but you are regular. Now can you please let me go? I’m supposed to be sparring with Clint in ten minutes.”

Tony shook his head and curled up into a ball. “Steeeeb, I want… I want…” Tony sneezed and groaned. “Ugh, I want zoup.”

“Zoup? What’s zoup?”

“Steeb. I want thicken noodlez zoup.”

Reaching down, Steve picked up Tony and carried him back to his bed and laid him under the covers that probably cost more than his entire wardrobe. “You’re just… gosh. You don’t know how to deal with it do you?”

Tony buried his head into his pillow, voice muffled. “I hate it.”

Patting Tony on the back, Steve got up. “I’ll make you some soup. If it’ll save your life, I guess I can do it.”

“I love you Steeb.” Wellp, there it was. A confession.

Leaning over and giving Tony a kiss on the cheek Steve said, “I love you too, Tony, you big baby. Now get better so I can tell you that when you aren’t in a drunken fever daze.”

Tony nodded and curled up under the covers. “Do I still get zoup?”

“…yes, you still get zoup.”


End file.
